


Watcher I thru III

by mamadeb



Category: The X-Files
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2000-03-15
Updated: 2000-03-15
Packaged: 2018-11-21 00:59:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11346708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mamadeb/pseuds/mamadeb
Summary: Krycek picks at an open emotional wound.





	Watcher I thru III

**Author's Note:**

> Note from alice ttlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Basement](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Basement), which moved to the AO3 to ensure the stories are always available and so that authors may have complete control of their own works. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Basement's collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thebasement/profile).

 

Watcher by Debra Fran Baker

Title:Watcher  
Author/pseudonym:Debra Fran Baker  
Pairing: M/Sk/K  
Rating: NC-17  
Status: New, complete  
Archive: Yes  
E-mail address for feedback:   
Other websites: http://www.panix.com/~dfbaker  
Disclaimers: Chris Carter's, not mine. May be reproduced for personal use only.  
Summary: Krycek picks at an open emotional wound.  
Warnings: None, really. Threesome,if that means anything.

* * *

Watcher  
Debra Fran Baker

I'd watched them before. I'm good at watching, at seeing in the dark. And I've seen them, tangled together in motel sheets like some adulterous couple, fearful of their respective spouses.

And each time I follow them, lurking in the shadows with the other rats, I tell myself it's the last time. That I'm a fool for doing this. That all I'm doing is torturing myself, tearing out my heart. That I'll get caught one of these days. Each time I say this.

Until the next, like this night. I saw them in the parking garage. Mulder caught Skinner's eye and Skinner nodded. His partner was there, but if she noticed, she didn't give a clue. She knows, though. She doesn't approve, so she doesn't say, but she knows. I watched her glare at Skinner's car as he drove away. I know that look. I share that look. It galls me that we have this bond, but it also gives me hope. 

But Mulder doesn't see this. If he doesn't want to know, if he doesn't want to believe, it doesn't happen. I watched him climb into Scully's car before getting into my own.

I didn't follow her. I know the route better than I know my way home. I've traveled it more often.

She dropped him at home. Mulder, full of contradictions - expensive suits that never saw a tailor, a man who hated to be driven yet didn't own a car, violent but so fragile. I hated myself for loving him.

I waited outside his apartment. He was down again in moments, suit of armor changed for old jeans and a leather jacket. He looked younger like that, smaller. If it weren't for his eyes, he could almost pass as a rebellious student. But I'd seen the pictures of Fox Mulder as a teenager. He'd always had those eyes.

I hope that when I get to Hell, Bill Mulder is there waiting for me, rotting.

Best job I ever did. Consortium didn't even have to pay me.

At least, I thought so until I saw that his eyes were even older afterwards. He wasn't supposed to *love* the bastard. Of course, I wasn't supposed to fall in love with Mulder, either. 

He hailed a cab and got in. I had a reasonable idea of which motel was on tonight's schedule, so I didn't bother following. I just drove off on a different route.

*He* was already there when I arrived. I parked my own vehicle on the other side and maneuvered back to him. He didn't notice me at all, but I noticed him.

Skinner was leaning against his car. He'd discarded his tie along with his jacket, and unbuttoned his shirt collar. The white shirt emphasized his muscles better than the tightest t-shirt, and his suit pants outlined his slim hips and generous endowments enough to make my breath short and my jeans tight.

But then I could never breath around Skinner - even when I tried to control his life, I couldn't control my own reactions to him. How did it feel to be Mulder? How did it feel to be wrapped up in those arms, covered, filled by that man? If he made Mulder feel safe, I could love him as well as hate him for giving what I could not. And for giving Mulder what I...I didn't let my mind go further.

The cab pulled up, and Mulder got out. I sank further back into the shadows. Skinner's face lit up. That smile went straight to my soul. It always did. As for Mulder - he kept those eyes down and his lips together. That always happens, too. 

He couldn't walk to Skinner fast enough. Each step was a dagger to my heart, but I had to keep watching. And then Mulder was wrapped in those arms in a hug so warm and gentle that I ached. I couldn't do that for him now. I could never hold him close and apart from this world, the way he needed, the way Skinner could.

For the first time, I wondered how Mulder felt inside that cocoon. Did he feel safe? Smothered? Loved? Confused? Mulder and I showed our love through violence. He wouldn't let me give him anything else. 

Skinner loosened his hold enough for Mulder to meet his lips. I knew how that full lower lip tasted, how it felt hard and angry against my own mouth. I remember our tongues wrestling for dominance. There was none of that here. I watched Mulder melt into Skinner, watched them drown together. I rubbed my eyes.

They broke apart slowly, and walked arm in arm towards one of the doors. It was a matter of moments for me to thread a fibre-optic camera through their door and to pick the lock of the room next to theirs.

I connected it to the television - these cheap rooms don't get the VCR-proof TVs, and ran to bribe the desk clerk for that very room. It didn't take much of a bribe. If I wanted room twelve, it was no skin off his nose.

I knew I had time. Mulder never settled down right away. He had to burn off his nervous energy by pacing and talking and it did no good to try to change that. Even Skinner's overwhelming presence wouldn't change that.

It would have had me turn to jelly...don't go there.

I was back in my room, this time legally with a key, in five minutes. I turned on the set. Mulder was still pacing, but he was slowing down. Skinner was watching him with a patient smile. He'd settled down on the bed, dwarfing it with his size, and removed his shoes and socks, and had pulled his shirttails out of his pants. My mouth went dry.

And then the pain started again. Mulder crept back into Skinner's arms.

"Oh, God, Walter. I missed you." He buried his head in Skinner's shoulder.

"Missed you, too, Fox." That was another knife to my gut. If I'd dared to use the forbidden name, I'd get another punch in the face. All Skinner got was more nuzzling.

The nuzzles turned to kisses and then to nips. I hated this. I hated the surge of jealousy that ran through my body. I hated the arousal I felt at the same time. I am *not* a voyeur. I don't make porn movies a way of life like Mulder does. Hell, I've spied on people having sex before in *every* possible combination, and it meant almost nothing to me.

But this...every time I pick at this scab, I get hard. As they tear away each other's clothing in the room next door, I unzip my jeans and take my penis out.

I couldn't take my eyes away from the screen. Skinner was wearing only his shirt now, and it was unbuttoned. Mulder was skinning out of his own jeans, so I had a beautiful view of the man, and he was magnificent as always, massive and masculine. He stroked himself lazily as he watched Mulder. I echoed his actions with my own hand.

Mulder came back into the picture, and my attention was diverted to his perfect rear. Nothing could ever hide it - not ratty sweats or fancy suits and certainly not old jeans - but revealed it was...I couldn't take my eyes away. I remembered how it felt beneath my hands, how beautifully it bruised...

He began kissing Skinner again, moving down that body as if trying to taste every inch. He paused to suck at a nipple or two. I could hear Skinner moan and Mulder breathe hard, fighting to keep my own noises down.

Skinner sat up and moved to the foot of the bed, presenting a profile to my little camera. He was enormous, rock hard and leaking, and I...I could feel my muscles contract at the thought of taking him inside me.

Mulder knelt in front of him. There was that smile, as brilliant as the sun. I almost never got a chance to see that except for these times. And then he took all of Skinner into his mouth. My jaw ached.

As always, I was struck by how right Mulder looked like that. How beautiful he was like that. I could hear him moan in pleasure in time to Skinner, who was tangling his hand in Mulder's hair.

Mulder moaned louder when Skinner pushed his head away. The man had to have a will of iron. I knew what Mulder's mouth could do.

Skinner dragged him to his feet. My breath stopped for a moment. Yes, Skinner was magnificent, but Mulder was...heartbreaking in his beauty. Where it wasn't scarred from injury and surgery, his skin was smooth and elegant and I remember the marks it took.

Skinner took Mulder's arm and guided him to the bed, carefully laying him face down, and placing a pillow under him.

I moaned. The angle of the camera was all wrong. I couldn't see more. I told myself it would be a relief, that I didn't need to see Skinner take *my* Mulder again.

I didn't need to see because I'd seen it all before.

Mulder would be lying on the bed, naked and vulnerable. Skinner would be stroking that perfect butt, and then preparing Mulder so gently and lovingly I'd feel like crying and killing Skinner.

But I'd needed to see it anyway. I needed to feel that pain, he needed all of it. That's why I was here. I buried my face in my hands, and tried to tune out what was going on on the set.

I heard a knock on the door.

What the hell?

I put myself together as quickly as I could, and grabbed my gun. Cautiously, I walked to the door and, standing out of eyeshot, I opened it.

*He* was there. His shirt was still unbuttoned. He had his pants on, but they were unbuttoned, too. I couldn't speak.

"View's better in that room, boy. Leave the piece."

"H-h-h..."

"We saw the camera." I shivered at the anger in his voice. I also grew harder.

I opened my mouth to speak but there were no words. 

"How long, boy? How long have you been spying on us? And how much have you been paid?"

It was hard, but I forced the words out. "No one pays me. No one else knows. You think...you think I'd put *him* in danger?"

"Do you *know* what he's doing now, Krycek? Do you know what you're putting him through?"

I turned to the set, but a hand on my bad shoulder stopped me. 

"I destroyed that toy of yours." 

I looked at him. His voice was perfectly calm, and that was more frightening than even his anger.

"He's back there, alone. I'm going back to the room, and *you* are going with me, Krycek."

I nodded mutely, wondering why he hadn't drawn the weapon I saw tucked in his pants. I looked again. Three weapons. Two standard FBI issue and one smaller one - Mulder's ankle gun. He was carrying Mulder's weapons. Mutely, I handed him my own and let him guide me to their room.

Mulder was still on the bed, still naked, still heartbreakingly beautiful. 

He stared at me with those ancient eyes, his knees drawn up to his chest and his arms wrapped protectively around them. "Krycek." I reeled from the hatred in his voice.

"I'm...I'm sorry, Mulder."

"Why?" Those eyes were burning me, right down to my soul. To my surprise, I had one.

"To...see you. To...know."

"Know what? That you could destroy *him* in one phone call?"

He reached out a hand. Skinner took it, held it tightly, interlaced their fingers. 

"No! That...that he made you...made you happy. That this...this danger was worth it. To...to protect you."

"Protect us?"

"Think about it. I'm *good*, I'm the best. But I've been following you two on your trysts for months, since you started, and you never twigged until now. So your precautions weren't good enough. Mine are."

"Krycek...how good?"

"Damn good." I thought about a couple of guys who would *never* report back to their masters, other than through a medium at a seance.

"Why?"

I collapsed on the only chair in the room, and hid my face. Mulder's voice was drained of anger.

"Krycek? Alex? Why?"

"Because you need protection. And I would do anything, risk anything, to protect you. And if *he* makes you happy, I'll protect him, too." The truth burned coming out. I wanted to bury my face again, but I forced myself to look straight at them both.

Mulder had relaxed enough to sit cross-legged on the bed, but he still grasped Skinner's hand like a lifeline. Skinner hadn't moved, except to use his other hand to stroke the one he held.

"What are you saying, Alex?" Skinner sounded almost gentle now.

I bit my lip and then took a deep breath. "I love him." I focused on Mulder. "I love you. At least as much as I can love anyone. I'll kill for you. I'll die for you."

To my shock, and that of Skinner's, Mulder tore his hand free, gathered up his knees again and began to rock.

Instantly, both of us rushed to him. I sat ineffectually at the foot of the bed, while Skinner wrapped his arms around him, refusing to let Mulder shake him off.

"Don't...no...please. Don't say those words."

No, he wouldn't want to accept love. Not from me, at any rate. I looked at Skinner, who nodded.

"Not from you, either?

"No. Not with words." He just looked at me.

"You believe me?"

Skinner nodded again. "I could hate you for it, but...no."

I looked at them, at Skinner's strength and power, at Mulder's beauty and need. And I tore off my jacket and my shirt, and shrugged off the prosthesis. I hated it, but I couldn't touch him with that plastic...thing.

And then I wrapped my arm around Mulder as best I could, allowing Skinner to complete the circle I couldn't make. To my surprise, Skinner did more than that. I found myself held in his strength. I was right. It felt safe there.

Mulder slowly relaxed under Skinner's words and my strokes. Eventually, he was able to lie down between us, although he still shook occasionally. Skinner motioned to me and I got up. 

It took some management, but we got him covered up with the blankets and bedspread. I think Skinner could have done it himself, but he was gracious enough to pretend he needed my help.

Skinner then took off the rest of his clothes, carefully stashing the guns as far from the bed as possible and climbed, gathering up Mulder as he did. It was a measure of my condition that I felt neither arousal nor jealousy at that sight. It just looked the way things should be.

"I'll go back to my room now."

I turned to leave.

"No." Mulder's whisper stopped me in midstride.

"What?"

"Don't go. Stay. Here. Please."

Skinner didn't bother to whisper. "Yes. Stay here...Alex. With both of us. Don't be alone tonight." I read the words "or ever" in his eyes, and for a moment I felt like curling into a ball of my own.

Instead, I took off my boots and my jeans, and joined them on Mulder's other side. Even when we were lovers, we never finished a night together, Mulder and I. He or I would always pack up and leave.

I'd dreamed of sleeping with him in my arms. Now, holding him close, being held close by Walter Skinner, I slept soundly for the first time in years.

<the end>

Copyright 2000 Debra Fran Baker and NightRoads Associates

 

* * *

 

Title: Watcher II: Wonderland   
Author: Debra Fran Baker  
Pairing: M/Sk/K  
Feedback:   
Archive: yes  
Author's website: http://www.panix.com/~dfbaker/  
Warnings: None  
Spoilers: A bit for the current season, maybe  
Summary: Krycek wakes up in Skinner's arms.

* * *

"Dear God, you're beautiful."

I've heard those words many times in my life, ever since I was too young to protest, but never with such reverence, and never with that voice. 

I had to be dreaming, which went along with the other odd feelings I was having...safety, security, warmth. The hand gently stroking my hair, my neck, my shoulder, my...I wasn't dreaming. In my dreams, I have two arms.

I opened my eyes. There was sunlight pouring into the tawdry little motel room, the one I'd barely registered the night before. It barely registered now. My senses were overwhelmed with *him*, lying in bed next to me, smiling at me. I don't think I'd ever seen Walter Skinner smile at me before. 

"Sorcerer's eyes. Good morning, Alex." No, this wasn't a dream. I'd never dared to dream of this. Not that I dared to dream of much at all. Dreams slow you down. Make you long for two arms.

So did reality. I was lying on my right side, facing him, which meant I was lying on my arm. Helpless. He stroked my stump with curiosity, but no revulsion. I'd been getting a lot of revulsion lately.

"That's not so beautiful." I tried to move away from him, away from his touch, but he wouldn't let me. He found my arm with his other hand and held it as he continued to caress me.

"Ah, Alyosha...someone has been lying to you." 

"Alyosha?" For a moment, I was a child again. That was the last time I'd heard that name; the last time I'd felt...the way I did right then.

"It fits you." I knew he had a Russian middle name; Russian maternal grandparents, too. Still...

"You don't know Russian."

Skinner shrugged. "I know that much. And you're still beautiful, and someone has been lying to you about that."

And his touch still reached to the soul I'd just discovered. I wanted to relax into it, into him. 

"Why are you doing this? What about Mulder?" 

"I want to. And he knows. We...talked." He moved closer to me, holding my hand and stroking my back. I shivered and then jumped.

"When? Where is he? When did that happen?"

He sighed. "An hour ago. Maybe more. You slept soundly."

"That's not possible. I never sleep that deeply. I'd be dead if I did." Panic pierced me like a knife. Skinner immediately wrapped me in his arms. I shook.

"It's all right, Alyosha. We were here watching for you. You were safe here. You will always be safe here, where we are."

"No. I have to leave. I can't stay." I tried to wrestle out of his arms, but they held me too firmly. "Where's Mulder? He'll understand? Where is Mulder?"

"Shh, shh. You don't have to go anywhere. Mulder's out running. He'll be back soon, and I know he wants you to stay, too."

I've been spying on people and governments for years. I know things I wish I didn't, and things other people wish I didn't. I've accepted things that most rational people would consider insane, that even Mulder has to fight to believe. 

His last sentence made no sense at all. It bounced around my head until it was reduced to mere sounds, and it still made no sense. I let myself be crushed to him as I latched onto the only words that had meaning, a meaning that gave me a different sort of terror.

"Mulder is out running? You let him out by himself?"

Skinner chuckled. It was a warm, comforting sound, as beautiful as his smile and his eyes. I shivered again. Warm and comfortable had no place in my world. Neither did beautiful, except as something to look at from a distance. I wanted the edge, I wanted the danger, and I wanted the power only knowledge could bring. I knew the price and I paid it. I didn't even regret the loss of my arm, other than the inconvenience it caused. 

This was something else.

"This isn't funny, Skinner. You saw the way he was last night. He's in no shape to be out alone." I tried to push away. He held me tighter.

"No one 'let's' Fox do anything. I'm not saying he's fine, but he's functional. And he has his gun with him, so he's as safe as he'd ever be." 

"You let him have his gun?" I couldn't forget the sight of three guns thrust into Skinner's suit pants last night because he wouldn't let Mulder alone with a weapon.

"He needed it. And...he said he'd be back. I have to trust him a little. So do you. He's a grown man."

There was a little doubt in his voice. He was worried, too. 

"Why didn't you go with him? I mean, that's why you came here...to be with him."

He stroked my face. "Yes, I did. But I couldn't leave you alone."

"I would have been fine. I'm a grown man, too. I can take care of myself...even now." Except I couldn't break free of his hold on me. 

"Why? Why are you protecting me? I almost killed you! You should hate me."

He was silent for a long time. I kept waiting for him to stop petting me, to let go of me, to...to take his gun and kill me. After all, my own was...he had it. He'd taken it away. No, I'd given it to him without his even asking. It felt right to do that last night. Was I turning into a fool? Fools die. Did I want to die?

He didn't let go of me. He kept rubbing my back, down to my rear. There was nothing sexual in his touch. If there had been, that would have been normal for me. But he was just comforting me, and that shattered me completely.

His voice, when he finally spoke, was quiet. "You could have killed me. You could have killed either of us for months now with no trouble. You had every opportunity. Hell, you even had the oldest motive in the book. You hated me even before I started sleeping with Fox."

I couldn't lie to him. Not while I could hear his heart beating under my ear. "I never hated you. I wanted to, so much. I used to watch you with him, holding him, loving him, chasing away his demons, and I used to wonder why that couldn't be me."

"Oh, Alyosha." To my shock, I felt his lips brush the top of my head. "Why didn't you hate me?"

"You love him. You take care of him. Sometimes I wasn't sure who I was more jealous of. And if I did kill you, I'd hurt him. And that would kill me. Why am I still alive?"

Why was he holding me like something precious? Why was he holding me the way I watched him hold Mulder?

"Because you need it. Because I want to. Because he wants me to." Damn the man. Did he read my mind?

My eyes stung, but I wasn't going to lose myself that far. I tilted my head back to look at his eyes. They were still warm and commanding, and endless.

He smiled at me. I licked my lips and leaned forward. He met me halfway.

Skinner's lips were warm and commanding, just like his eyes, and so gentle. I could drown there happily. Even his tongue held a contained strength that made me weak at its touch. I wanted time to stop right then. I whimpered when he pulled away. He touched my lips in apology.

"I promise you, Alyosha. We will do more. All of us if you want."

"Promise, Skinner?"

He just smiled and kissed my forehead. "Maybe you should think about calling me Walter."

I shook my head, but put my head on his chest again. "I can't."

"It's all right. Shhh."

Maybe I dozed. Maybe his steady caresses relaxed me or distracted me. I don't know. All I do know is that one moment, I was burrowing my head into Skinner's chest, and the next I was smelling food and hearing someone clear his throat.

"Someone's sleeping in my bed." I looked up, blinking. How could this happen twice? If this kept up, I'd be dead in less than a week. 

Mulder was holding a sack from McDonalds and smiling brilliantly. I looked at Skinner, and there was that same incandescent glow as last night in the parking lot. "You could join us, Fox?"

"I don't know. You two look so cozy."

Skinner's lips were warm and commanding, just like his eyes, and so gentle. I could drown there happily. Even his tongue held a contained strength that made me weak at its touch. I wanted time to stop right then. I whimpered when he pulled away. He touched my lips in apology.

"I promise you, Alyosha. We will do more. All of us if you want."

"I don't know what I want, except to be here." I buried my head in his shoulder. He held me tighter, and stroked my hair. 

We were like that for a long time. I relaxed in his arms and let my mind go blank, knowing I was in the safest place in the world.

I must have fallen asleep there because the next thing I knew, the room was filled with the odor of fast food breakfast. I heard a familiar chuckle.

"Who's been sleeping in my bed?" 

I turned in Skinner's arms. This was too dangerous. He should not have been able to walk into the motel room without my waking. What was happening to me? I would have jumped off the bed if I weren't held so securely, so gently. Skinner stroked my shoulder for a moment, his touch calming me.

But Mulder's face held no menace, no sign of jealousy or that easy violence of his. 

Nor was there the panic of the night before. I wasn't sure I'd ever seen him like this, even when we were lovers. 

"Still room for you, Fox." Skinner let go of me long enough to pull Mulder between us, giving him just enough time to put the bags on the floor. He fell on the bed with a happy yelp. He gave me a brief kiss on the lips before turning and claiming Skinner. Normally, I'd have been seething in jealousy, but now all I could think was how beautiful they looked together.

Skinner was still under the covers, still naked. Mulder was lying on top of the covers wearing old sweats that concealed most of his form. My mind cataloged all these facts, but my heart said beautiful. 

Slowly, they pulled apart. "Whew! Mulder, take a shower. You stink."

"I just ran for five miles. I'd better stink."

He did not stink. He smelled strong and sexy, almost as he did when he used to lie spent in my arms for the few moments before one or the other of us would jump out of bed (or out of the car or off the office floor)and run away. He wasn't running now. Neither was I.

And I still couldn't figure out why. Nor could I reconcile this laughing, loving man with the basketcase of the night before.

While I pondered, Mulder jumped off the bed again and presented us with breakfast. First came huge cups of coffee with the word "hot" emblazoned on the Styrofoam. Then he doled out the food. He'd gotten trays of eggs and pancakes for himself and Skinner, but breakfast sandwiches for me - four of them in a bag he'd dumped in my lap.

He sat cross-legged at the foot of the bed facing us, grinning brilliantly. I noticed him staring at me as I managed the food one-handed. From anyone else, it would have been rude. From him...it was just Mulder.

Then I realized he wasn't looking at my arm, or where it used to be. He was looking at me. "What's so fascinating?"

"Why are you here?"

I looked at Skinner, who seemed intrigued by the contents of his coffee cup. "What do you mean?"

Mulder rolled his eyes. "I mean, I woke up this morning and there you were in bed with us. I nearly hared out, but Walter calmed me down and sent me out running. *You* slept through it all."

I sat back against the headboard. This time, Skinner let me catch his eye. He smiled tightly and shook his head just a bit. Maybe I was dreaming...

Except that the coffee was hot and bitter, and the bacon in the biscuit sandwich was salty, and the bed was warm, and Mulder stank.

And none of that happened when I dreamed. Nor did my annoyingly full bladder. 

"So, while I was running, I tried to figure out why you were here. And why you decided to sleep with us instead of killing us. And I couldn't. Why are you here, Alex?"

"Krycek. I don't get to call you Fox, you don't get to call me Alex."

I had to say something to stall for time. How could Mulder not remember? How could *Mulder* not remember? My mind refused to work. Desperately, I looked at Skinner *again*.

Skinner chuckled. "That's exactly what we were talking about before you showed up, Fox."

"Why he didn't kill us?"

"And why I didn't kill him when I saw him and brought him inside."

He leaned forward. "And what did you decide?"

"He's too cuddly to kill." Skinner glared at me while Mulder, incredibly, cracked up. He laughed so hard I could see tears running down his face. Every once in a while, he'd looked at me, point to Skinner and laugh harder. It was a sight. Twice we had to catch him before he rolled over his egg tray.

Eventually, he calmed down and finished his cold breakfast and coffee. He gathered the debris from the bed and piled it up on the dresser.

"If you are quite recovered, Fox..." This set Mulder off again. I shot Skinner a look. He was smiling broadly, but it never reached his eyes. He calmed down again.

"Whatever you say...Cuddles..." He chuckled again, but managed to get control. "I'm going to take a shower." He go up and began to take off his sweats. As usual, Mulder had no more body consciousness than a child. "You guys want to join me?"

"You go ahead, stinky. Enjoy the hot water." Mulder shot him a blinding grin, gathered up his shaving kit and disappeared into the tiny bathroom.

I took a look at him. It hit me...I was naked in bed next to that man while his lover showered in the next room. I threw back the covers and reached for my own clothing. Unlike Mulder, I was body conscious - yet I'd just spent a half hour calmly eating with my scars and my...deficit clearly visible. I may not have been dreaming, but Alex was in wonderland.

I couldn't move. Skinner had his hand on my good shoulder, keeping me there. "Stay here, Alyosha."

I tried to fight, to wriggle out of his grasp. "I can't. I can't stay here. I can't see him..."

"You think I can?" His voice was quiet, but I could hear the desperation behind it.

I stopped fighting and turned to look at him, pausing only to toss the blanket over me again. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that this morning, as you lay sleeping the sleep of the innocent, Fox woke me up to ask what you were doing here."

I shivered. To my shock, Skinner moved to sit next to me, and gathered me in his arms. I leaned into his chest, and found that he was shaking as well. "He really doesn't remember?"

"No." There was an edge to his voice that I'd never thought I'd hear, and that frightened me more than anything. Mulder was the center to my world, but Skinner was one of the rocks, him and Mulder's partner. I could stand his hatred, but not his fear.

"Are you sure? Maybe he's...hiding it."

"I'm sure. I wish I weren't. I wish he were lying, covering something up. But I only got what I wished for once." He looked at the bathroom. I could hear water running, smell shaving lotion on the steam. "He woke up, saw you were there and...asked."

"Just...asked? He wasn't bothered?" I pulled away so I could see his face. He had his glasses back on, hiding his eyes. 

"He was bothered. Or confused. He asked what the hell you were doing in bed with us, except he called you a 'rat bastard.' But...there was no anger there."

"He didn't try to hit me?" I hated the way my voice sounded, as if I were scared of *Mulder*.

Skinner's gaze pierced me straight to my soul. "No." He closed his eyes for a moment. I sighed in relief as the contact was broken. When he opened them again, he stared at the bathroom door. I could hear off-key singing. "But his fists were clenched. Alyosha...I'm sorry. I'm sorry for the slam in the belly, I'm sorry for the night on my balcony. Things were...things *are* bad, but not as bad as they were then. That's no excuse." He stroked my back.

No one had ever apologized before. I wanted to run again, to find the world I was used to, where people hit and didn't care, where being naked in bed meant more than cuddling, where no gentle hand caressed my stump, where people acted *normally.* "I know. You did what you had to do."

"I wanted you, even then. If I hadn't chained you outside, if I hadn't let the violence take over, I'd have...compromised everything. You're so beautiful..."

"I bring out the violence in everyone, it seems. Mulder...I don't blame him, either. I betrayed him so often. I'm not surprised he hates me."

"He doesn't hate you. He wants to hate you, like I wanted to hate you, but...He was starting to get upset this morning because he couldn't remember, because he thought he'd slept through it. I sent him running, promising that I'd be okay, that I could take care of myself in case. He...he believed me."

"He trusts you. He trusts you absolutely, even now. Like I do. Honor is a rare thing, Walter."

He gathered me closer. "I have no honor. I sold it along time ago for a false promise. All I have is him. And..."

I had to change the subject. It was too close to home. "Has this ever happened before? That he doesn't remember something?"

"I don't know. It hasn't happened with me. But he never was like he was last night with me, either. He's been angry and drugged and exhausted and despondent, but not...terrified."

"You're terrified yourself." That thought was no more comfortable the second time.

"I'm terrified on many counts. I don't know what's going on with Mulder. I don't know what's going on with you - twice you've slept when you have no business sleeping, and that's going to get you killed. And I don't know what's going with me because not only am I worried about Fox, I'm worried about you, and I can't seem to let go of you." His arms tightened around me. 

"Please...don't. Don't let go...it makes me feel safe." Shut up, Krycek. You're revealing too much.

"Safe?" 

"Yes. Safe. Secure. No one is after me here. No one can hurt me. Maybe that's why I could sleep so deeply - your arms were around me."

"I'll have to let go. God knows I don't want to, but we can't stay here."

"I know." How could I have ever hurt this man? How could I have dreamed of it? I met his eyes again. He didn't smile. "Mulder. What do you know about Mulder? I mean, besides what's in his jacket. And how good a lover he is."

"What do you know?"

"Yeah. What do you two know about Mulder?" We both looked up. We hadn't heard the water stop. He stood in the doorway of the bathroom drying his hair, with another towel wrapped around his hips. The air smelled of shampoo and spicy soap. "Can I be in on this?" He finished with his hair and sat down at the foot of the bed again.

Skinner was silent for a moment. Then he nodded. He stroked my back on more time and let go. I repressed a sigh and moved away to sit up against the head board, adjusting the blanket again. 

He looked at the empty space between us and then at Mulder, who shook his head and stayed where he was. "What do you want to know, Fox?"

"Everything. We have all day." He looked at us expectantly.

I reached out for Skinner's hand. He gave it to me, lacing his fingers with mine. I smiled at him and took a deep breath. "I've been following you for a while."

Mulder sat still. He swallowed a couple of times and began to play with the bedspread. "How...how long?" He stared at his hands, not looking at either of us.

"About six months. Not long after you started, I think."

"You...you just followed us?"

Walter's hand tightened. I bit my lip. "No. I...I watched. I...don't know why I did. It hurt to do it, but I had to."

He looked up. His eyes blazed and his hands held the spread so tightly his knuckles were white. "Did you get your rocks off watching us?"

I couldn't answer. There was no right answer, no true one. "Sometimes...you're so beautiful, both of you. But most of the time it just hurt."

"So...why?"

"Because someone had to...to watch your backs."

"We were careful. No one knows."

"Scully does. I do. The guy I...caught three weeks ago did, and so do the ones he...worked for."

Mulder turned white. "What are you saying?" His voice was hoarse, and he looked like he couldn't breathe.

"I'm saying that I was protecting you. Both. I'm saying that you were careful but no one's perfect. I'm saying...that I care what happens to you." I was breathing hard myself.

"Fox...listen to him. He's telling the truth, isn't he?" I looked at Skinner. What did he know?

"He is. Damn him to hell, he is. He said this...last night, you said you loved me." He looked at me with daggers in his eyes. 

"I did. I do." Memories of his panic the night before swam in front of my eyes. Walter used his other hand to stroke mine, but he looked at Mulder.

"Don't say that, Krycek. How can you love? You have no heart." His hatred hurt as badly as his fear.

"The same way you can. And I can." Walter's voice was calm, but his hands trembled around mine. 

"Do you love him? Walter, do you love this rat bastard?"

"Right now? I don't know. I care about him. God help me, but I do." He turned to me. "I could love you, Alyosha, if you gave me a chance." Before I could even think, he looked back at Mulder. "I know I love you. I *will* say it. I love you, Fox Mulder."

Mulder looked like Skinner had slapped him. No. He looked like he'd rather Skinner had slapped him. But he didn't panic. He just held the bedspread in an iron grip. "I...you say that. I have to believe you. I wish...I wish I knew how I felt...for both of you." He looked at me. "I don't...I should...I don't hate you, Krycek. I should. I know who you are, what you are, what you did to me, to Scully, to Walter...to my father. I should hate that you're even breathing."

Skinner forced out a chuckle. "You've never done a thing you 'should' since I've known you, Fox."

Mulder shook his head and looked at both of us. "I'm an idiot. Scully will kill me. But...the two of you together like that, seeing you like that...And I know you're not lying."

"Please...?" I let go of Skinner's hand. He looked at both of us in turn and then he was between us again, and holding me. I got my arm under him and held him as tightly as I could. He put his face on my shoulders. I could feel tears.

"Mulder?"

"I missed you, Alex. I never stopped missing you, even when I hated you. Oh, God, what am I going to do? I love you, I love Walter and the world is spinning around."

"It's all right, Fox. We'll figure this thing out. All three of us." I looked over Mulder's shoulder at Skinner's face. He nodded. I kissed Mulder's head.

He looked up at me. "Krycek?" He licked his lips.

That was all the invitation I needed. After so long, that kiss was as much bitter as it was sweet. I could taste his tears. I drank him in as if he were wine, and for the first time that strange morning, I could feel myself becoming aroused, and I could feel him respond.

We still needed to talk, but this was what I needed now, and what he needed, and what Skinner, who was holding us both again, needed. Mulder turned in my arms and sought Skinner's mouth. I sighed with the loss even as I grew more aroused at the vision they presented.

Mulder must have heard me, because as soon as he parted from Skinner, he climbed over me, pushing me to the middle. "We're not leaving you out, Alex. Not by a long shot."

He began kissing me up and down my body, hard, bruising kisses that left me shivering, while on the other side, Skinner echoed his movements, but his kisses were gentle if equally passionate. I was rapidly approaching sensory and emotional overload when they met at my groin and began trying to kiss each other through my penis. Mulder was on my arm, I couldn't move and I didn't especially want to. Not when one of them engulfed me completely, while the other played with my testicles. Only years of practice let me keep from shouting. I don't scream in either pain or pleasure...unless specifically asked or paid to do so.

Then I realized it wasn't Mulder who was sucking me. Licking me. Rubbing me against his face. I knew how Mulder felt. He loved this act almost as much as he loved being taken. It was *him*. And he was skilled in ways I'd never dreamed, because in none of my dreams of this man was he doing this. 

And then I stopped thinking. I completely surrendered to the sensations around me, not even reserving the tiny corner of my mind I normally do, so I can escape if necessary. My world became tongues, lips, long graceful fingers and strong, gentle hands, and all the pleasure they urged out of my body until I finally exploded in a rush that left me weak and gasping.

Skinner moved up the bed and took me in his arms again. I had no idea why until I began to sob against his chest. He held me silently as the tears burned out of my eyes and I fought to breathe, while Mulder sat close enough for me to feel his presence but no more. 

Finally, and I don't know how long it took, I stopped. Skinner wrapped himself tightly around my trembling body, and kissed my forehead. "What was that about, Alyosha?"

"I don't know. I think I was overwhelmed. Please...don't let go." I cursed my weakness but I needed him. Something was missing.

"You were hurting badly, Krycek. You're not hurting anymore." Mulder was curled up at the foot of the bed. 

Skinner and I exchanged looks, then I pushed myself away from him. He caught my hand as I did. "You know that, Mulder?"

He looked up and nodded. He shivered.

"Fox? Come, join us. Please." Skinner looked as worried as I felt.

"What's going on? What do you know? What do you know that you haven't told me?" He curled up tighter.

"You're shivering, Fox. Please...come here." Mulder didn't move. Finally, Skinner let go of my hand and go up. Somehow, the spread had fallen off the bed. Skinner wrapped it around Mulder's shoulders, and kept his arms there. 

Mulder shrugged him off and held the spread tighter. "Go away. Go back to *him* - or tell me the truth."

Skinner stayed where he was, leaving me alone at the head of the bed, my arm curled around my legs. All three of us were naked. The room smelled of sex and coffee and the sandwich I hadn't had a chance to eat. Like Alice, the wonderland was really a nightmare.

"Walter...we have to tell him. He should have been told years ago."

"Tell me what? I know my father is that smoking bastard. I know my sister was experimented on for years after she was taken, and that she's dead. I know I had a...a thing in my head that made me telepathic. What more do I need to know?"

"Gibson Praise." Mulder started when I said that name.

"The boy. He...he's telepathic."

"Was. He's...they needed to find out *how* they'd succeeded."

"Those bastards. Those stinking, disgusting bastards." He began pounding on the bed. "He was only a little boy!" He jumped off the bed. His fists were still clenched. He needed something to hit, to destroy but this wasn't his home and we weren't at fault. "You knew?"

I nodded. He ran to me, clutching his arms to his body. I could see the tension. I held out my arm to stop him. "Mulder...I couldn't *do* anything. I didn't even know where he was. Sometimes I dreamed about him screaming, but he always turned into you." He stood a foot from me, breathing hard. "I'm sorry. If it helps, your old 'girlfriend' Fowley cried at his cremation."

"Diana? Diana knew?" He collapsed on the bed, his mood changing with the moment. 

"She knew. She knew all about the experiment. Experiments."

"Oh, my God. Gibson was...successful. Sam...me...we...I was an experiment, too? They were breeding for...for telepathy. They failed. How come they let me live? Why am I still alive? Why!" He reached for me, but Skinner caught him.

"Fox, you will control yourself. Now, sit down and listen for a change." He pointed to his side of the bed and Mulder, his eyes sullen, walked over and sat down. Skinner wrapped his arms around him. "You were...a partial success."

"*You* knew? Who else knows? Scully?"

Skinner shook his head. "She knows only what you know. She would play her role better in...in ignorance."

"Her role? What was her role?"

"To protect you. To watch you. To keep you...to keep you..."

"To keep you sane, Mulder. For that, they needed someone of complete integrity and honesty. And such a person could never know the real facts. She'd denounce them right away if she did."

Mulder nodded. "And what about you? Why did they send you in?" I winced at the anger in his eyes.

"She...she was too good. And too smart. And far too loyal to you. They needed someone else. Someone with less integrity. Someone..."

"Were you their whore, Krycek? Did they order you to go to bed with me?"

I shook my head. "They never knew what we were from me. They...they were hoping. They thought that that would be the way to control you. I lied to them. Told them that you..."

"Did you...did you get Scully abducted?"

"Indirectly. I wanted her...I was jealous. But not gone. I knew better...that's why I ran when she was taken. You were too loyal to her. You always will be. You...love her."

"She's my partner. I need to trust her. And she's my best friend. What do you expect? Damn it, Walter, don't look that way. You're my lover. You're my life. But Scully...like Krycek says. She's my anchor. And *he* had her taken." He tried to leave Skinner's arms, but they'd tightened around him. "Let me go, you son of a bitch!"

"I won't let you hurt him, Fox. He...not here, not now." 

"He got Scully...she nearly died because of him." I could feel those eyes burn into me. I had to stop myself from moving into the corner of the bed.

"I never intended that to happen. It was an idiotic thing to do. Believe me, Mulder. That was the last thing I wanted..."

"What did they want?"

"To keep an eye on you. To keep you off the track. To...watch you. I never stopped watching you."

"That's why you're here, isn't it? You were watching us?"

I nodded. "I had to. It was my choice."

"What else? What is going on?" He closed his eyes and leaned back on Skinner. "Okay. Gibson Praise was successful. He was a telepath. I'm not one, or at least I'm not now."

"You were meant to be." He twisted to look at Skinner. "You were meant to be a telepath. A telepath would know who was an alien or infected by the black oil. You were meant to be the front line of defense."

"I was a failure."

"You were...not what they wanted."

"How do you know this, Skinner?" I rubbed my left shoulder, just above the stump. I was cold; I wanted to cross my arms. 

"I was thoroughly briefed. I've known about Fox since...since I was given the X-files. I was told never to let him...you know."

"Who told you?" Mulder's voice was little more than a whisper, and he still leaned against Skinner, but he sounded betrayed and hurt.

"Your father."

"My father? *Him*?"

"Yes. And when Bill Mulder says something, you do it. Even after he's dead."

"Bill Mulder is *not* my father. Cancerman, Spender, he's my father."

"All I know is that he called me and told me to 'Watch out for the boy, but don't let him know why.' And so I did. Whatever he was to you, Fox, he cared."

"He only cared that I was a *failure*. I was *born* a failure." He drew his legs up and wrapped his arms around them. Then he began to rock in Skinner's arms. I shivered.

"You were not what they expected, but you were not a failure. If Bill had opened his eyes, he'd have seen that. Spender did."

"I'm not a telepath. If I were meant to be one, I'd have had better control. I'm a failure. A failed lab rat. How appropriate."

"You're brilliant. You're beautiful. And God only knows where you got it, but you are among the most compassionate men. If you'd chosen to practice, you'd have been a fine therapist. Any father would have been proud."

"He got it because he wasn't a failure."

Both men looked at me. "Bill Mulder and CBG Spender were idiots. They didn't see what they had, or what they were destroying. You know I'm telling the truth."

Mulder blinked slowly. "You are. How do I know that?"

"You know what I feel on some level. You were meant to be telepathic, but you came out an empath."

"I'm *not*. I...Walter!" He twisted completely around and buried his head in Skinner's chest. Walter stroked his back gently and looked at me, as if to ask if I were sure. I nodded. He gave Mulder a small kiss on his neck, and then frowned. Then he nodded back.

"Fox..." 

"I can't...I don't know what's going on. Too much. You love me, Krycek?"

"For all the good it's done me, yes." I couldn't keep the bitterness out of my voice.

"I'm sorry. God knows...oh, God, if something happened to you because of me...it did. You got shot; you got framed...you got those *things* in your blood...*you* put them there." He glared at me and then looked away. "I'm a curse. I hurt everyone I love, or cause them to be hurt, or to hurt each other...and why? I'm a *failure*." He tore himself out of Skinner's arms and curled up on the floor. 

Both of us got out of bed and crouched next to him. "I had to do it. It was that or let someone else control them, Mulder. And someone else would have killed him. I...would never let anyone have that control." I looked at Skinner as I said this. He nodded at me and stroked my arm.

"Fox...it's all worth it. These last few months, all of it."

"I've brought you nothing but pain."

"No...you've brought me joy. And love. And your face when I wake up in the morning, those times it's there."

He turned his head away. "And Scully? What did I bring her? Cancer, sterility...death?"

"Ask her. Ask her how she values your friendship, your way of looking at the world. Ask her if she regrets seeing her views expanded. She didn't have to be your partner when she came back. I told her she could go where she wanted. She *chose* to come back to you. Think about that, Fox."

He shook his head. "And Krycek? What about you?"

I was silent. 

"Alex?"

"I used to think I'd give my life for this country. And then it was this planet. And then I met you. And I realized that I didn't give a damn about anything else - and that you were the key for both. Both of you. So, what's an arm? I'm alive and you're alive and that's what counts." I sat down on the floor and wrapped my arm around him. He didn't flinch.

Walter joined us on the floor, and once again, I was engulfed in his strength and his love for Mulder, feeding my own need. I had no idea where we were going, but I didn't want to leave Wonderland just then.

Copyright 2000 Debra Fran Baker and NightRoads Associates

 

* * *

 

Title: Watcher:Nightmares  
Author: Debra Fran Baker  
Rating: PG  
Pairing: M/Sk/K  
Status: New/Complete  
Series: Watcher  
Email:   
URL: http://www.panix.com/~dfbaker/  
Archive: Yes  
Disclaimer: Not Mine  
Summary: Sometimes, the truth makes no difference.  
Warning: No sex. None. They put *on* clothes.

* * *

I was in Wonderland, with Fox Mulder in my arm and Walter Skinner wrapped around both of us. It wasn't paradise. Mulder was just sitting on the floor, staring into space - the best I could say was that he wasn't rejecting us. I didn't know what was going through his head, but the possibilities scared me.

Skinner sounded scared as well. Mulder turned to look at him.

"What else do you know? What else do you sons of bitches know about me?"

His voice was empty. 

"What do you want to know, Fox?"

"Everything. Nothing. I don't know. Who the hell am I?"

I tightened my arm. He didn't seem to notice. "You're...who you always were."

"What the hell does that mean?" He tore himself from our arms and began pacing the room. He was still naked from his shower. "Am I even a normal human being?"

I looked at Skinner. "What do you mean?"

"Am I a normal human being?"

"What do you think?"

"You say I'm an empath. I know I don't forget anything. I know I make...connections no one else makes. How much of that was...engineered into me? And where did it come from?"

"So far as I know, Mulder, all your genes are purely human." 

"As far as you know? You mean it's possible I'm not?" I had never seen Mulder's eyes that empty.

And I had nothing to fill them. "I don't know, Mulder. I just don't know. But I can tell you...all your skills are byproducts. They wanted a telepath. They didn't worry about your intelligence or your memory or anything else. Before *or* after you were born."

"So I am a failure. Why was I allowed to live, then?"

"Mulder..."

"I wasn't supposed to live. I was supposed to be put down and...and autopsied like a lab rat, so they could find out where I went wrong." Why did he have to be so brilliant?

"You..."

"Why?"

"Your father...fathers. For different reasons." Skinner let go of me and found a pair of pants. He pulled them on and sat on the bed. 

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that Bill Mulder and GBD Spender each had their reasons for keeping you alive and under...observation. They didn't tell me what they were, but I could guess."

"What used did they have for faulty merchandise?" Mulder walked back to the bed and buried his head in his hands. Skinner moved closer and touched him on his shoulder. "Get your hands off me, you son of a bitch!" 

Mulder exploded off the bed as Skinner and I stared at him in shock. He ran past me. I reached for him and he pulled his leg away. "You, too, you rat bastard. You knew, you *both* knew." 

"Mulder..."

"Just shut up. If you can't say the truth, don't say anything. All those years...all that...you *sure* Scully doesn't know, too? She's not lying to me? I can still trust *someone*?"

Skinner closed his eyes against Mulder's words. "I didn't have a choice, Fox." He took a deep breath. "I wasn't going to risk your life. And they told me that you'd be killed if you found out."

"Isn't that *my* choice? Isn't it my life to risk?"

"No, Mulder." I struggled to my feet and found my own jeans. I used Skinner for balance while I pulled them on. "It's not your choice."

"What the hell are you talking about?" He clenched his fists.

"Listen to me. We can't risk your life because we *need* you. We *all* need you." Even Skinner stared at me at that.

"Explain yourself, Alyosha."

"I thought I was a failed experiment." 

"You were. The same way Alexander Fleming failed to grow healthy staph on that petrie dish."

His eyes widened. "You can't mean that."

"I do. Mulder, listen to me. They were breeding for telepathy, but it was the wrong thing. The...the invaders can't be detected that way. They can disguise their thoughts, hide from your sister and that little boy."

"My...my sister? She...I don't remember her reading minds, Krycek."

"That's because she wasn't given near-toxic levels of drugs at home. The same sort I had to put in your water once, but at a much higher level. I told them it wouldn't work, and was a mistake."

"They killed her."

"They did."

"So...why am I so valuable? Where did I succeed?" He started pacing again, his hands still clenched.

"They can't hide from you. The invaders, the rebels. None of them. You *feel* them...they can disguise their thoughts but not their emotions. Maybe it's too primitive a level for them, or they forgot they had them, but we've watched you. You always *know*. Even when I had the black stuff, you sensed it."

He looked at me, his eyes wide. "How did you know? I barely knew myself. I kept feeling something different about you."

"Because you acted different. You kept staring at me."

"You are *pretty*, Krycek, remember? I was ready to take you across that phone bank."

I bit my lip. "I know the difference. You wanted me, sure, *before*. But not after it entered me. I'm not vain. I can't afford vanity. Not anymore." 

Skinner moved closer to me, and stroked my bad shoulder. I forced myself not to shake him off. Mulder stared at us for a moment.

"I'm an empath. I can detect emotions...I can..."

Skinner nodded. "That's why you were a good profiler. And why it nearly drove you insane. They hoped it would be the best place for you - safe at Quantico, you know?"

Mulder began to make this noise - it wasn't laughing and it wasn't crying. It hurt to hear. He backed up into the wall and slid down until he reach the floor. He wrapped his arms around his knees. Only then, when he had hidden himself, did I realize that he was still naked. 

"Fox?"

"You...you thought I was...I was *safe*?" He shook his head and made that strange sound again. I shuddered and leaned closer to Skinner, hoping to absorb some of his stability.

"You were. Physically. Profilers don't go out in the field." How could Skinner be so calm? "We were wrong."

"And the whole reason...my...talent...oh, damn..." The strange sound became harsher. There were tears. "And all...all that time...You can't know."

"Fox?" 

He looked up at us - rather, he looked in our direction but I don't think he saw us. Even as the tears fell down his face, his voice became empty. "They called me spooky because I could get into the killers' heads. Do you know what it's like to *know* exactly what a serial killer is? To be him? To feel the pleasure or the relief when they take a life? The other profilers could, almost, do that, but...me...it was different. I knew it, they knew it. And we all thought the same thing. If I could get into that headspace so easily..." His breath became ragged. "Then...what was I?"

I turned to face Skinner. Neither of us could answer that. He didn't wait for an answer. 

"I've been waiting for it ever since."

"Waiting for what?" I couldn't speak above a whisper.

He focused on me. His voice became matter of fact. "For the day I woke up and needed to kill. When I can't sleep and I'm alone and I don't have a case or TV to distract me, I wonder what my trigger is going to be. When I can sleep, I have nightmares about killing people - feeling their blood pour out, or their lives crushed out under my hands. And sometimes I scream myself awake. Those are the good ones."

"The good ones?" I had to force the words out.

He nodded. "The bad times are the ones when I wake up and find myself covered in semen. Those are the mornings I stare at my gun for an hour before forcing myself to go to work."

Skinner's eyes widened in horror. "My God, Fox."

Mulder looked straight into those eyes of his. "What God? Walter, the only thing that kept me going was the hope that I'd be able to eat my gun when...when the dreams became real, before I gave in. Or maybe that you or Scully would do it for me. You would, right? You'd kill me when my monster comes out?" He sounded hopeful, even eager.

Skinner tightened the hand on my shoulder to the point of pain. I welcomed it. "I won't let you become a monster."

"Too late for that. I was born a monster. Just ask...the ones who built me, just like Frankenstein. Hey, Walter, how does it feel to be Elsa Lancaster?"

"I don't have the hair for it. Mulder, I've seen you. I've seen you come close to killing - but you've only killed when you had no choice."

"Yeah. One drink can send an alcoholic over. But...I was wrong all these years. All these years, I've been in that hell, and the monster isn't in me. It was all them. Right?"

Walter was crushing my shoulder. I buried my head on his chest. I couldn't face those hopeful eyes.

"No! You can't do this to me!" He jumped to his feet. "You can't play these games with me! I'm *sick* of the games, I'm sick of the lies, of all the little secrets. You told me one truth. Tell me another. Or am I a monster? Tell me!" He stepped towards us. For a moment, it looked like he was going to grab Skinner's neck, but he stopped and looked at his hands in horror. "I can't stay here! I have to leave." He grabbed his clothing and ran to the door.

Skinner was there before he got there. He stood with his arms folded against his chest. "I can't let you go, Fox."

"You *can't*? You can't let me stay. I...I'm dangerous."

"You stopped yourself." They both looked at me. "You thought about hurting Skinner but you stopped yourself. Think about that, Mulder. You were not berserk, not out of control - you never were. Not even when you were beating me up...when I let you beat me up. You never went to the point you couldn't stop."

"I can...I can feel it, inside of me. And sometimes...I wanted it, Walter. I wanted to feel your neck between my hands, feel the life leaving it. I could feel it take over." He struggled into his clothes.

Skinner turned white at those words, but he betrayed nothing in his voice. "But you didn't. You didn't give in to it, let it take control. You fought it...and it wasn't much of a fight, was it?"

Mulder shook his head. "I will not let myself hurt you. I can't...it would be...it would be worse than hurting myself." He looked at me. "I'm sorry, Alex. You were there, and you were...you were willing to hurt me back."

"Only in the beginning, Mulder, before I realized it wasn't a sex game. When...when I realized I was feeding your demons. You weren't born a monster, Mulder. Monsters aren't born."

"But I am one. Nature or nurture, it's all the same. I am what Bill Mulder made me. And one day I'm going to get tired of fighting. I'm tired now. I'm tired of running away from myself. I can't ditch myself. I wish I could. I wish I could...wipe myself clean and start over." His eyes grew wild. "Do it. They've already stolen hours out of my life. Why not all of it? Remake Fox Mulder into someone who isn't teetering on the brink of insanity."

"No." 

"Why not, Krycek?"

"Because then...it would be your body and your face but not you. And I love you - all of you, including your monster."

"No!"

"And so does Skinner. And even Scully."

Skinner nodded. "I told you that. I don't love a beautiful mannequin. I love a man." He looked at me then, and what I saw made me shy back on the bed. His eyes didn't change when they moved from Mulder to me.

"I...I'm sorry. I can not handle this. If I could love you, I would. If I only..." He began to shake again. Skinner pulled him close, wrapped his arms around him, but Mulder pulled free.

"I...I promise, I'm not going to do anything, but I can't stay here. I can't breathe. I'll be in Alex's room. I need to call Scully, anyway. I haven't bugged her in hours, and if she gets worried, she *will* track me down, and probably whip our asses."

"I don't want you to leave, Fox. Not now."

"Please...there's too much here. I'm just going next door. Look, if you don't trust me...here's my wallet, here are my guns...here are my damn shoes! You can even take my belt. Here..."

"I don't want your damn belt, Fox." He tossed it to the ground.

"Walter, please...I need you to take it." Mulder looked desperate. I remembered some of the games we played.

"Skinner...take it." He stared at me for a moment and gave a quick nod. Mulder smiled then, just as briefly, and went next door. A few minutes later, I could hear what could only be Saturday morning cartoons coming through the thin wall separating our motel rooms.

"He's not going to be all right, is he, Walter?"

Skinner shook his head as he walked back to me. I wrapped my arm around him as best I could. 

"He's never been all right. They made sure of that. But I think he's...safe right now." He leaned into my shoulder. "As safe as he'll ever be from himself." 

I had Skinner's strength and beauty all to myself at that moment, and all I could was strain to hear Mulder talking to his partner over the sounds of children's violence.

<The End>

Copyright 2000 Debra Fran Baker and NightRoads Associates


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